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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042449">We Come Alive in the Evening</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keith_Wilde/pseuds/Keith_Wilde'>Keith_Wilde</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Anniversary, Fluff, Future Fic, Gallavich, M/M, Microfic, Mild Smut, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:35:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>927</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keith_Wilde/pseuds/Keith_Wilde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Our boys have a year of marriage under their belt, and decide to celebrate with a little vacation to Virginia Beach.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>We Come Alive in the Evening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just a super short one-shot scene of Ian and Mickey being aggressively adorable. Has a Gallagher ever taken a vacation? Probably not, but now Ian has.</p>
<p>Title is from Dijon's excellent, sexy song "Skin," which is highly recommended to accompany this fic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFaj0arcZY8</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mickey had never been to the ocean before.</p>
<p>Not even when he was in Mexico. As much as he’d been dreaming about going, after Ian left, he just couldn’t do it. The piece of the fantasy that really mattered was gone; spending his days on the beach without Ian would just remind him of what he was missing. So he’d kept himself busy. The cartel. Crime. Doing what he was good at. What he’d been groomed for all his life. There was no time to see the ocean, and he had liked it that way. At the time. </p>
<p>Ian hadn’t seen it, either. The only times he’d been outside Chicago for any extended period were in basic, when he’d taken Yvgeny, and on his trip to the border with Mickey. Ian had seen some shit; the inside of a cell, the back rooms of the Fairy Tale, how many beds were inside a Cook county psych ward. But something like this? When would he have found the time?</p>
<p>Now they were here, though. The sky above was inky and clear, with more stars than Mickey had seen since Mexico. He still wasn’t sure how they had pulled it off. Of course, it wasn’t any Cancun or the Bahamas or anything, but they were here. Spending their anniversary on Virginia Beach, just minutes until midnight struck and their first year as a married couple was over. </p>
<p>And it was fucking freezing.</p>
<p>“You’re dreaming, Gallagher. No fuckin’ way am I getting in there.”</p>
<p>Mickey was standing, arms crossed over his chest, at the edge of the water. Ian was already in up to his waist, boxers billowing in the water, moving slowly but easily in the nighttime surf. He was lit just by the string of street lights stationed a couple dozen yards away and the little bit of moonlight reflecting off the water. The copper color of the halogen lights really worked with Ian’s hair, though. Made it shine. Made the shadows clinging to his sculpted back sharp and beautiful, too. Mickey was struck, again, just like the day before and the day before that, at how fuckin’ lucky he’d gotten. And maybe how he was starting to get a little hard, too. Ian turned back and grinned at his husband. </p>
<p>“C’mon, Mick. We came all this way.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, to bang in a hotel room without your family around, not to get fuckin’ pneumonia in the ocean at one in the goddamn morning.”</p>
<p>“They’re your family too now, you know,” Ian reminded him.</p>
<p>“Yeah, well. You’re clearly a lunatic, so I guess I fit right in.” Mickey smiled softly, then walked over to his jeans, crumpled in a pile on the beach with Ian’s, pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. “Doesn’t mean I’m gettin’ in there.” </p>
<p>“Forgot you were such a pussy,” Ian said, one eyebrow cocked in a challenge. </p>
<p>“Well if I’m such a pussy and you married me, then what does that say about you, huh?”  </p>
<p>“Says I need to try harder to get you in this water. Says drastic action must be taken.” Ian started walking toward Mickey, who backed up slowly, flicking his cigarette away.</p>
<p>“Oh, hell no. Don’t you get anywhere near me with your wet ass--” </p>
<p>Ian lunged forward then. He caught a struggling Mickey around the waist, flinging him around as he kicked and yelled and splashed and laughed in spite of himself, wrestling until they were both drenched, up to their shoulders in the surf. </p>
<p>“Goddamnit, Gallagher!”</p>
<p>After it was clear that the struggle was over, Mickey, weightless in the water, wrapped his legs around Ian’s waist. With Ian’s large hands on Mickey’s hips they kissed. They were happy, eager, licking salt off each other’s lips. When he pulled back, Mickey smiled. </p>
<p>“You better keep me warm since this was your idea, ya psycho.” </p>
<p>“I’m a romantic psycho, though.” Ian checked his watch. “Well, what do you know. 12:02 am. Happy first anniversary, Mr. Gallavich.” </p>
<p>“We’ve only been married for a year? Jesus, felt like ten, draggin’ your ass around.” Ian hit him and they playfully wrestled for another minute before kissing again. “Yeah, yeah. Happy anniversary, Firecrotch.” </p>
<p>The night was cold, but Ian’s skin radiated heat where Mickey’s chest touched his. He was clinging to Ian for warmth, Mickey told himself, but man, the wet fabric between them was almost as good as wearing nothing at all. He could feel all nine inches of Ian hardening between them, their cocks pushing up against each other in the water. Both pretending to be able to ignore each other. With his arms wrapped around Ian’s neck, Mick could feel the taught, capable muscles of Ian’s shoulders and upper back, holding him up effortlessly. All that smooth skin, the strength that was so intense it would have almost scared Mickey--if it didn’t excite him so goddamn much.</p>
<p>Mickey moved one hand up to thread through the short, wet hair at the base of Ian’s skull, tattooed fingers coaxing Ian closer. He stopped just short of a kiss, pulling away just a little, teasing. He grinned, feeling Ian’s heartbeat quicken. Ian returned the smile, dipping his head down to nip at Mickey’s ear and shoulder.</p>
<p>“You wanna get out of here? Get to that hotel room you were so excited about?” Ian breathed into Mickey’s neck.</p>
<p>“Yes, thank fuck. It’s goddamn freezing out here.” </p>
<p>Ian laughed, keeping Mickey’s legs wrapped around him as he pushed against the water, coming in with the tide, making sure his husband didn’t go anywhere.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoyed! Always looking to make more Gallavich-obsessed friends so feel free to message.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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